Bushido Code Red
by The Light's Refrain
Summary: ONESHOT There's a reason Scyther hates the color red. Can it win a battle against the ultimate foe? Or is it already losing the war, much less the fight?


_Hi there! This story has been brought to you by Bulbapedia! No, really, that's what inspired it. But more on that later._

_This is actually an old idea that had been stuck in my head for awhile, and now it's finally written. I give thanks to my betas Raichu, Whitefire3627, and my sister for helping me make this story more awesome._

_There is actually a historic undercurrent to this. Can you guess what it is? (Hint: It's not a specific event, but rather a gradual shift)_

**_Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon. Though I own plenty of Pokemon in Pokemon games..._**

Bushido Code Red

"_The best is the enemy of the good." - Voltaire_

It was too quiet now.

He was the oldest Scyther, the top of his swarm. The giant mantis Pokemon bore many scars over his entire grass-green body from many battles, as any honorable Scyther should at his age. His sharp, bladed arms gleamed in the morning light, as did his translucent, flight-worthy wings. His clan, mostly youngsters now, was still asleep. It was shameful. But all the older Scyther had already passed away, or, worse, been captured by humans known as Trainers.

The old Scyther stood in front of one of the many trees on Route 229, his eyes closed. Then, with two deft swipes of his scythe-like arms, he cut the tree in half. It left only a mere stump behind, sliced clean and flat as a tabletop. Before the falling tree reached the ground, he rushed in and cut the trunk into many slices. The timber pieces landed with several small _thumps_. The old Scyther's bladed limbs were coated with the sap of the tree.

He was training, as he did everyday, and as he had always done since he was hatched. Training was always important, or you would become weak, and stay weak. He was trying to get these youngsters to understand that.

Well, at least one of them understood. A younger Scyther, his star pupil, was mimicking his own training a few feet away. Mimicking, but not quite succeeding: he was still hacking angrily at his tree.

Shaking his head, the old Scyther flew over to the young one. "Anger will only lead to sloppiness. You must focus and be calm, if you want your slices to strike true."

The young Scyther stopped slashing at the tree, and turned to face the old Scyther. "I know that, Master, yet I still can't cut the tree in one blow. I was calm the first three tries."

"Then you need more training," the old Scyther stated simply.

"But I want to be strong now!" protested the young Scyther. "How much longer do I have to train before I can reach your level? I've already trained under you for years."

"If that is your attitude, then there is still much training you need to do," answered the old Scyther.

The young Scyther huffed.

There was an unfamiliar step. The young Scyther immediately jumped into a fighting stance. The old Scyther turned, quick enough to parry an ambush attack, slow enough to show no fear.

It was a human. It appeared to be a young one. The old Scyther wasn't sure of the exact age or gender of the human, since they all looked alike to him. The swagger of this human, however, suggested that this was a Trainer human, a slave master.

"Leave," the old Scyther told the young one. "I will fight the human and his Pokemon."

"But I want to fight!" exclaimed the young Scyther. "I can't get stronger if I don't fight!"

"You are not ready for this kind of fight," the old Scyther replied. "You may lose your freedom as a Pokemon if you lose to a Trainer. You may observe, but you may not fight. Now leave."

Dejectedly the young Scyther slipped into the grasses.

The old Scyther locked eyes with the human. The human smiled and brought out a Pokeball, confirming the old Scyther's suspicions.

"Go, Gunburst!" the Trainer shouted, as the Pokeball snapped open and released its captive light.

The old Scyther readied himself as the light shaped itself into a proper being. The creature was sleek, metal, with long thin arms that ended in lobster-like claws. On its back were small, stubby wings. And it was red - overwhelmingly red.

_Red_! That traitorous color! The color of excess, of too much blood upon the body, and too much rampant rage within the soul! The color of -

"Scizor," said the scarlet being, with a metallic ring to its voice. It wore a pale gray strap around its head, covered in red and blue diamond markings.

The old Scyther hissed at the sight of the abominable Pokemon. It was hardly worthy of carrying the title of a natural animal, not with its bastard, human-influenced evolution. Then he calmed himself, bearing an unfriendly grin.

"And to think…" the old Scyther spoke in his native tongue, a mere echo of his name to the unknowing. "That you were once a Scyther."

The Scizor raised his head high, glaring down at the old Scyther. "And to think that you're still alive, old man. It's been awhile, hasn't it?"

The old Scyther's eyes widened. "You-"

He _knew_ this Scizor, or rather the Scyther he used to be. The youngster had always been slower than the others, never able to keep up. And then one day, that slowness got it caught…

"So you remember me, old man?" remarked the Scizor. "I'm flattered. Didn't realize you guys cared so much, 'cause it sure didn't seem like you guys cared much back then."

"I cannot help those who are too lazy to help themselves," said the old Scyther. "Young grass-"

"I ain't a grasshopper anymore!" snapped the Scizor, thrusting one claw forward. "Do I _look_ like I'm still a grasshopper to you, old man? No, now I am Gunburst the Scizor, and I will show you just how much stronger and better my evolution and my human's training has made me!"

"Raring to go, huh?" remarked the Trainer to his Scizor, oblivious to the words exchanged by the two Pokemon. "Alright then! Gunburst, Bullet Punch!"

The band around the Scizor's head began to glow red, and so did his eyes. In an instant the Scizor became a scarlet blur and jabbed the old Scyther hard in the stomach, driving his steel claw into the aged, toughened exoskeleton. The old Scyther was sent flying, and crashed into the tall grass.

The old Scyther quickly got back on his feet, though he stayed crouched in the grass to blend in. He held one bladed arm flat against his abdomen. _Such power! I cannot take too many hits like that._

He could see the Scizor skate forward, his shining crimson eyes scanning the thicket for his opponent. His red body clashed greatly with his verdant surroundings, making him easy for the old Scyther to track.

_I cannot take him on directly,_ thought the old Scyther, as he stayed carefully still. _At least not yet. I must both strengthen myself and weaken him._

The old Scyther performed the Double Team technique multiple times, moving so fast among the grasses that there appeared to be many of him at once.

The Scizor finally spotted him, and shot off toward the nearest old Scyther. But it was only an image, and vanished as soon as the Scizor punched it. The Scizor went flying into a tree, blasting it to large pale splinters, and then went through two more afterward. The same thing happened when the Scizor went after the next nearest image, and the next one after that. Whenever the old Scyther saw an opportunity he would score a quick hit on the Scizor, more to disorient him than to do major damage. The ring of his scythe against the tempered steel rang through the grasses.

"Come on, Scizor! Bullet Punch 'em good!" the Trainer cheered in the background.

_The band that he wears gives him power, but it makes him stupid_, thought the old Scyther, as the Scizor assaulted yet another one of the images. _A…Choice Band, I think it is called. Such a strange, ugly item_.

While the Scizor was blindly going after the clones, the old Scyther carried out the Sword Dance technique several times, stomping about and honing his scythe-arms against each other. His mind and blades much sharper now, he could now do much more damage. And his wise eyes already observed where he could land a crucial blow…

The old Scyther did more Double Teams to replace the images that had already been destroyed. Then when the Scizor turned toward one of the fakes, the old Scyther rushed toward him with a Quick Attack, aiming for the Scizor's shrunken wings.

But the Scizor spun around and blocked the strike with one of his claws. Then he delivered another Bullet Punch with the other pincer. The attack struck one of the old Scyther's wings, rending it. The old Scyther hit the ground hard, and hardly had time to get up when he was struck by the Scizor again and again. The old Scyther unleashed a furious cry and a flurry of slashes in retaliation, but even in his enhanced state the cuts had a limited effect on the Scizor.

"I can't lose to you anymore, old man," taunted the Scizor. "I'm too good, and so is my Trainer. Bonds with humans are the key to real power. You're too set in your ways, and…well, just too _old_."

"But I cannot lose to you either," answered the old Scyther. "For I will never bow my head to your traitorous kind!"

In a single fluid motion, the old Scyther raised its arms, crossed them, and slashed them downward in an _X_ pattern. The X-Scissor technique was one that had taken him many years to master, one that marked the true skill of a Scyther. It was a critical hit, a strike strong enough to make the Scizor recoil back. While the Scizor was stunned, the old Scyther slipped behind his opponent and slashed the Scizor's stunted wings. The Scizor let out a cry of real pain, and the old Scyther melted back into the grasses and shadows.

"You talk of honor," hissed the Scizor. "But you hardly fight honorably."

"And you fight with even less honor," said the old Scyther from somewhere in the greenery. "So I reserve no honor for you."

"C'mon, Gunburst! Knock it out already!" called the Trainer, frustration clear in the human's voice. "It's just a Scyther!"

"I'll _destroy _it," replied the Scizor, though he knew the Trainer couldn't understand his exact words. "I will _completely _destroy it!"

"Is that all you regard me as? An _it_?" asked the old Scyther, his voice seeming to reverberate from everywhere. "Well, it doesn't matter anymore, though it saddens me, for I have already won. It is only a matter of time."

"You're just deluded now, old man!" shouted the Scizor, rushing forward with another Bullet Punch. His target had already vanished however, and all the Scizor struck was another tree.

"No, you are the one who is blinded by dreams," the old Scyther spoke from elsewhere, though the Scizor couldn't tell exactly where it came from.

The Scizor yelled as he tore through clone after false clone, his body rarely pausing as it rushed from place to place. He destroyed many images and many trees, but he could never seem to find his true opponent. It enraged him all the more.

The old Scyther remained calm as he continued to evade and hide himself. It was a waiting game now.

The Scizor began to slow down, panting for breath. His scarlet metal shell began to give off steam. His injured wings fluttered erratically, but not nearly enough to keep him cool as they were supposed to.

When the Scizor outright stopped its movements to catch its breath, the old Scyther knew the time had come. The Scyther rushed forward, hitting the Scizor with a storm of slashes. The green master danced around his oversized former pupil, his wings a translucent blur despite their earlier injury. He gracefully sliced over and over again, the clangs so quick and repetitive that it almost sounded like a song.

The Scizor, overheated and exhausted, could only weakly block the blows. "D-Damn you, old man…" When he finally attacked again, it was not with a Bullet Punch but with a flailing Struggle.

The old Scyther easily evaded the wild claw strikes. "Out of ammo, are you? This is what happens when you trade in your swords for claws."

The Scizor yelled madly as he again tried to pummel the old Scyther, but his opponent once again dodged the desperate attack with little trouble, He then retreated back into the grasses, disappearing from sight.

"Where…Where you going, old man?" the Scizor panted. "Hey…_Hey_! You ain't gonna run off after all that, are ya?"

"Gunburst, return!" ordered the Trainer, holding up the Scizor's Pokeball and shooting a beam of red light from it. The Scizor dodged all attempts of recall, however. "Man, this is insane. _Gunburst_, _c'mon_!"

There were slicing sounds all around the Scizor, but all the Scizor saw were green blurs among the grasses. Before the Scizor could decide which green blur to go after, there were sharp snapping sounds behind him.

A tree was falling, cut by the old Scyther, and heading straight for the Scizor. The red creature was barely able to avoid being caught under it.

"Heh…nice try, old man," taunted the Scizor breathlessly, looking at the thick tree that had almost landed on him.

Then the other trees circling the Scizor began to fall down.

The first two trees the Scizor evaded, albeit barely. The third tree caught his leg and caused him to fall down. The other four trees crashed easily onto their pinned target. After that, only the silence of the wild was heard.

The old Scyther emerged from the grasses, looking down upon his fallen opponent. He was breathless from his effort but stood straight nonetheless.

The Scizor barely opened his eyes at the old Scyther's arrival. "…Not bad. You've still got it….Master…" Then the Scizor lost consciousness.

"Gunburst!" cried out the Trainer, running over to the defeated Pokemon. The human hastily recalled the Scizor back into his Pokeball.

At first all was silent again. Then there were whisperings in the grasses as other Pokemon, including his own clan of Scyther, crept out of hiding. They murmured among themselves as they surveyed the damage. The old Scyther stood tall and proud.

But the mutterings weren't what he expected.

"So _that's_ what a Scizor is!" said an Ariados in excitement.

"Did you see what that Scizor did? Amazing!" a Volbeat told its Illumise. "He even gave the old Scyther a run for his money!"

"So fast!" said a Pinsir. "I didn't know a metal Pokemon could be that fast!"

The old Scyther gritted his teeth. _Such foolishness. How could they possibly admire such a being, who turned his back to everything natural? _The old Scyther, still catching his breath, glared at the Trainer.

The Trainer stared back. Then a wide, almost giddy grin broke out onto the human's face.

"Wow, what an awesome Scyther!" exclaimed the Trainer, taking out another Pokeball. "You'll be way better than my current Scizor. He always did have kind of weak stats. But you'll be an amazing Scizor!"

The old Scyther narrowed his eyes. "So that was all that he was to you? Just the newest weapon? What a waste of loyalty. He seemed to rather like you. Not that it surprises me." Of course he knew the Trainer would understand none of it. Even if they were speaking the same tongue he doubted the human would understand.

The Trainer threw a Pokeball right at the weakened Scyther. The old Scyther sliced it in half, and started skulking toward the Trainer. The Trainer threw more Pokeballs, which were also cut into pieces and failed to stop the old Scyther's advance.

The Trainer snarled, taking out yet another Pokeball and tossing it up into the air. "Go, Future!"

The Pokeball burst open, releasing a light. The light morphed into a strange pink-and-blue creature about half the old Scyther's height, though it floated to make up the difference. It looked more like a human child's toy than an actual living thing. Its staring yellow eyes and jerky motions would have frightened any youngster with common sense, however.

"Por-Y-gon. ZEEEE!" the unnatural thing announced in an equally erratic cybernetic voice, spinning in a circle before sticking out its beak-like apparatus in a taunt.

_What is that thing_? The old Scyther wondered in reluctant amazement, and not-so-reluctant disgust. _I've never seen such a deranged being before._

"Whoa, is that a Porygon-Z?" murmured one of the Volbeat. "I've heard it's the highest form of a Pokemon made by humans."

"Really? _Humans_ made it?" another Volbeat replied in shock. "Man, humans really are amazing. The way they create things that unlock new powers and forms in Pokemon…and now they're _making_ Pokemon…"

_If this is something humans made…_thought the old Scyther. _Then it is all the more reason not to trust them! _The old Scyther rushed forward, ready to strike with X-Scissor.

"Thunder Wave!" ordered the Trainer.

"Por-Y, Por-Y!"

Electric pulses emitted from the Porygon-Z's body, and the old Scyther suddenly felt his already-tired muscles cramp up. He fell onto the ground.

"Future, Hyper Beam!" shouted the Trainer.

"ZEEEE!" cried the unnatural creature, as a huge white laser erupted from its beak-like appendage.

The old Scyther was barely able to dodge the attack, which eradicated everything it struck. It cut a wide, clean path through the grasses to the next route.

The old Scyther had to stop to catch his breath. He knew he only had so much time before the Porygon-Z would finish recharging.

Then a figure stepped before him. The old Scyther looked up to see his young Scyther pupil, ready to fight.

"This is not your battle!" barked the old Scyther. "This Trainer and his Pokemon are far too strong for someone of your level to defeat!"

"I know that," said the young Scyther, not looking back at him.

"Then leave," growled the old Scyther. "You will only dishonor me by trying to interfere. If I am destined to lose this battle, I must face it myself."

The young Scyther looked back at old Scyther, bearing a toothy grin on his face. "Everything's just gotta always be about you, huh Master?"

The old Scyther glared at his pupil. "What do you mean?"

The young Scyther gazed forward again. "I want this Trainer."

The old Scyther's eyes widened. "What?"

"I will always have great respect for you, master," began the young Scyther, rubbing his scythes against each other. "But your style does not suit me. This life here does not suit me. If this Trainer can make that pathetic was-Scyther into a respectable opponent, imagine what he can make of a Pokemon that truly tries, like me."

"Fool!" hissed the old Scyther. "You will lose yourself!"

"No, I will find myself," answered the young Scyther. "I will prove myself to this Trainer, and I will become strong. I will see many places and battle many types of Pokemon, and this will teach me about the world. This is the path for me. I know this isn't the path for you, so you may leave. "

The old Scyther snarled, and then got up and turned around. "So be it. It is your choice to regret."

As the battle raged between of the young Scyther and the Trainer, with all the other Pokemon cheering for them, the old Scyther silently left the scene.

_Such idiocy_, he thought. _I will never acknowledge such travesty._

No one followed him.

_IIIIII_

_One day while reading Scyther's trivia facts on Bulbapedia, I came across something like this: "In the anime, Scyther hates the color red. Ironically, its evolution Scizor is all red." (I cannot bring the exact quote since it's gone now, though a similiar fact takes its place). So this made me think "Hey, maybe Scizor is the REASON it hates red, since it's such a strange evolution for it..." And so the idea of this fic came into being, though it took me awhile to figure out how to write it._

_I hope the battle scenes were both awesome and believable, since that's what I was aiming for._

_Cya!_


End file.
